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Bartleby the Scrivener vegan27
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garden 2014
Today was a little bit of a bummer of a gardening day. My mom and I went to the house in Harper Woods where Bob lived to mow the lawn, since the city fines property owners for long grass. We were surprised to see that the front lawn had already been mysteriously mowed. We still mowed the back lawn, bagged up some yard waste, and put the old couch and mattress on the curb.

Next we went to my house. When I had the dangerous, collapsing courtyard thing demolished in 2010, I couldn't afford the extra cost of removing its concrete foundation around the perimeter of my little triangle yard. Since then Bob and my mom planted a garden in this area, but it had to be removed today because the wall's old foundation is being excavated on Thursday.

The garden in 2013.

It took a few years for the garden to get this settled. The tradition among the three of us was to work on this garden every Memorial Day weekend. Ripping up all of these plants felt awful, but it had to be done before a fence or anything else can be put down here.

The aftermath.

Obviously we didn't get rid of these plants. They were scattered elsewhere--in front of the house, behind the car wash, and along the alley (my extended "yard"). The rose bush was potted for later replanting, but everything else was reused elsewhere on the property. Neighbors across the street even gave us some ground cover that they didn't want anymore.

The goose's bumble bee costume survived the winter.

I guess you could say that this is some kind of spiritual metaphor, that after the breakup of the human body, the individual's atoms and influences move outward and live on in the world around them. Then again, if you were a Freudian psychoanalyst, you could say that destroying Bob's garden was an expression of subconsciously repressed anger at a person who committed suicide. There is also a third interpretation, that my gardening is a random, meaningless act in a universe that is inherently random and meaningless lol